


Left Behind

by QuickSilverFox3



Series: Whumptober 2019 [26]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Left Behind - Freeform, Loneliness, M/M, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 14:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21210374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickSilverFox3/pseuds/QuickSilverFox3
Summary: "See you soon."The words rattled around Fenris' head, mocking him with their softness, their tenderness. He took another swig from the bottle held loosely in one hand, swallowing it reflexively.-Fenris waits for Hawke to return from the Deep Roads, and waits and waits and waits.





	Left Behind

**Author's Note:**

> [ My Tumblr!](https://inkformyblood.tumblr.com) Requests are always welcome!  
#26 Abandoned

"See you soon."

The words rattled around Fenris' head, mocking him with their softness, their tenderness. He took another swig from the bottle held loosely in one hand, swallowing it reflexively. What had once been rich and deep, and everything he had thought it would taste like when it was denied from him, turned to vinegar to his mouth.

He raised the label to his face, recognising the shapes and yet failing to understand them. There was so much about this land he did not understand and yet...

Glass rained down, sparkling in the firelight as it littered the floor, wine staining the wall a dark red. The momentary rush of satisfaction faded as quickly as it arrived and Fenris found him staring numbly at the wall where he had thrown the bottle.

It was strange to admit it, the words heavy in his head, too strong for him to give voice to, but he missed Hawke.

Fenris lifted his head, eyes slipping closed, and he _listened_. Outside the broken doors and boarded up windows, the city slept as much as it ever did. There were less thieves and mercenaries prowling the streets now than there had been. Hawke had been busy after all.

And even then, word got around quickly when entrepreneurial thieves tried to break into the supposedly empty mansion and encountered what they were referring to as a demon. It made him laugh when the pain was so great even air burned the lyrium markings on his skin, unable to touch anything and yet desiring... Something.

He couldn't let himself think of... That. Not yet. He had too much to do, too many people to kill before he could relax enough to consider anything else.

Hawke had a particular way of walking, surprisingly light on his feet for such a broad man but he'd shift them between steps, crushing the broken glass covering the floors of the mansion further beneath his feet. It was as unique as his accent, purposefully pushing the dropped letters and extended words, for the clipped Common spoken in Kirkwall, and yet he slipped occasionally, ears flushing red as he glared beneath heavy brows at his nearest sibling. If there were no Hawke twins ready to tease their older brother, Varric would duly step in.

Fenris blinked in surprise, the smile dropping from his face when he realised. Hawke wasn't here. The house was silent around Fenris, a cold wind stabbing the exposed markings on his face and arms, dragging him out of more pleasant memories.

"See you soon."

Humans were such liars.

Danarius, Hawke, all those people whose faces crumpled with sympathy but would sell him out the second gold hit their hands. His lyrium flared, lightning in his veins, agony in his bones. His hands ached with the urge to... To break something, to rip something to shreds and luxuriate in the destruction just because he could.

Hawke normally had a second sense for when these moods passed over Fenris, calling out to him the second he was through the door of the mansion, as if Fenris hadn't watched him travel up the street towards him.

It disgusted him at times. Nothing more than a dog waiting on its master’s return. Was that all he was to Hawke? Just a dog to sit alone and wait for him to return, treated worse than his actual mabari dog because he was left with Bethany. He wasn't alone.

Fenris longed for a fight, unaccustomed to sitting in inaction. He'd be able to fight if Hawke came back. No. _When_, Hawke came back.

Seven days there, seven days back.

Fenris didn't look at the marks of his wall, scratched into them with ease, metal barely needing anything to mark up the cheap wood. So concerned with appearances and yet rotten beneath.

There were seven, then seven again, and then another set of seven with the last scored so deeply it punctured through to the other side, unignorable. Hawke should have been back by now. He had promised! He had promised.

Fenris sat back down on the sofa and drew his knees up to his chest, staring unseeing at the crackling flames. Hawke would be back, he had promised.

And Fenris would wait for him. Nothing better than a dog and yet he didn't care so much if it was Hawke.

Just had to wait. And wait. And wait.


End file.
